


À La Vie, À La Mort

by DaggerStar



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, F/M, Gen, a few scattered french words, mention of gerard's death, set in France, typical vampiric violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-17
Updated: 2018-09-17
Packaged: 2019-07-13 16:40:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16021853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaggerStar/pseuds/DaggerStar
Summary: Amélie Lacroix is experienced in life as a nightmare.





	À La Vie, À La Mort

**Author's Note:**

> I'd get Google translate open for this one.

_    The château is dark and quiet. One could hear a feather drop. Rain pours outside, soaking me to my bones. Something had happened to me. My wrist hurts more than anything has ever hurt, even with my ballet career. The pain is throbbing, running up my veins, pulsing with my heart beat. The initial pain was excruciating. I'm so damn thirsty and hungry. I feel nothing but pain and the need to feed. The ferryman is dead. Blood covers my blouse. I open the huge doors and rush into the foyer. Water seeps into the floor. I smell something vaguely like veal and chardonnay and follow the scent. My eyes ache. The hunger pains get worse, as does the venom flowing in my bloodstream. There, in the dining hall, is my Gérard. The table is empty, but the sweet and savoury smell of dinner is ever stronger. _

 

   Amélie startled out of sleep. The nightmares about what happened that fateful night had gotten worse over the years. Decades of time did nothing to ease the pain of killing her husband. There was a time after the act where Amélie had thought deeply about ending her personal torment, but ultimately decided to live on. If being a vampire could really be called living. Amélie Lacroix used to be a comtesse in the 19th century and now she's nothing. Still well-off financially, sure, but just another name in the system. Victoire Dupont is the newest of the long list of names she had gathered for herself. She found a beach-front house looking over the Côte d’Azur where she could isolate herself without becoming a shut in. Amélie often takes walks on the beach at night, feeling the chilly water gently pass over her feet, paying her no mind. The ocean doesn't care what happens to people, humans and vampires alike. In the wake of the Mediterranean, Amélie’s problems seem so small.

 

   At that moment, however, Amélie was taking a vacation in Paris to see a live performance of  _ Le Lac des cygnes _ at the Palais Garnier. A ballet she had actually participated in, once upon a time. Having the honour of playing Odette and Odile was no easy task, maiming her feet and testing her physical and mental endurance. But, in the end, Amélie had pulled it off exquisitely. She smiled to herself softly.

 

   Paris was bright compared to most of France, giving way to such a welcoming nightlife. Amélie sat at a small table inside a café just across the street from the opera house. The ballet was due to start at eight, so she had some time to kill. She took a bite of her beef tartar. Vampires can, indeed, eat human food, but that rule is fickle. They can only digest it when they're healthy, the same going for the ability to taste. Human food holds no nutritional value and it mostly eaten for the aesthetic of blending in with the living, or the nostalgic taste of a life once lived. Amélie sipped her _vin rouge_ , then checked her watch. Twenty till eight. Quickly, she paid for her food and left, not wanting to be late because of a meal. Her deep violet heels clicked sharply on the concrete. She had dressed up for this occasion seeing as how she rarely gets to join the masses and enjoy an event like a ballet. A tight-fitting, silky royal purple dress, flashy _argent_ jewellery, all tied together with her hair in an updo. Amélie could feel the turning of heads as she walked briskly to her destination. She smirked.

 

   The Palais Garnier has remained beautiful since it was first built. Its Italian-style architecture and decadent halls seem to inspire, and give muse to even the saddest person. The gentle glow of the lights made Amélie feel alive. She walked up a set of stairs to a balcony overlooking the stage. The seats dimmed and the stage was lit up. The ballet began, elegant dancing and powerful music painting such perfect scenes. A great, aching emptiness grew inside Amélie. She sighed, letting a single tear fall. Out the corner of her eye, she could almost see Gérard sitting beside her, but when she looked over, no one was there. She had booked the whole balcony for tonight. A grand opera house brimming with people and Amélie felt so extraordinarily alone.

 

   During intermission, Amélie padded towards the bathroom to freshen up. On her way there, a man stopped her. He smiled and rubbed the back of his neck.

 

“ _ Pardon _ , _ madame _ , but I saw you crying during the first act and was mesmerized by how moving you found the ballet,” he spoke softly.

 

“ _ Oui _ , it's my favourite.”

 

“You seem very alone up there,  _ je peux me joindre à vous? _ ”

 

   Amélie looked down and crossed her arms in thought.

 

“Sure, why not? We can enjoy the ballet together.  _ Je suis Victoire Dupont _ . You?”

 

“ _ Blaise Dubois _ , _ enchanté _ .”

 

“ _ Enchanté _ . It's about to start again if you'd really like to join me,” Amélie said with a raised brow.

 

   Blaise nodded his head lightly and took her arm. The two of them walked back to the balcony together, resuming watching.

 

   The ballet continued spectacularly, though Amélie could seldom focus properly. Blaise’s blood hammered in her ears. All she could think of was his blood spurting out of his neck. The flesh hanging down the wound, meat and veins exposed. She licked her lips. Amélie stroked Blaise’s hand with her finger once. He looked down and smirked, Amélie matching his facial expression. They both held hunger in their eyes, one of human desire and the other of something much more unholy. With purpose in her steps, Amélie led this man she just met towards the back exit. Blaise readily followed her like a moth to a flame.

 

   The spider led her ready little fly outside the back of the opera house, the moon shining dimmer than the city lights. Amélie lightly padded to the back wall. She turned around and stared deviously at the handsome, dark-haired man in front of her. With a grin, Blaise leaned down and began kissing Amélie’s neck softly, taking care to kiss around her many necklaces. If only Amélie could blush. She traced a matte  _ noir  _ nail down Blaise’s cheek and jaw, resting at his neck. As he bit her ear ever so, she dug her sharp nail into the simmering flesh of his neck. Blood suddenly flooded out. Blaise stilled for a moment before grabbing at his neck. His eyes bugged, staring at Amélie in shock and horror. Said vampire brought her victim close to her into a dip, lest she get blood on her nice dress. She dug her claws into Blaise's body to keep him still and put her mouth over his wound.

 

   Her fangs came to life, tearing through her gums and placing themselves well atop her canines. Though she could not see it happen, Amélie’s eyes turned a glowing golden yellow. She drank freely from the young man she lured away from the ballet. The sweet, honeysuckle taste of blood poured down her throat. Her grip on the man under her tightened as she sucked him dry. With a wet pop, she left the gaping neck wound. Amélie’s teeth retracted back into her gums and the tingling of getting a fresh kill died down swiftly. She got out a tissue from her  _ portefeuille _ and patted the corners of her mouth, then looked at herself in a compact. Her skin glowed and she looked healthy. Amélie brought her lilac lipstick out, fixing her face. As she did so, the body beneath her feet began decomposing rapidly. Its innards liquefied first, then the skin mummified soon after. Then, after a brief second, the remains dropped into a pool of fluid. Fluid that quickly evaporated.

  
   The now very satisfied vampire brushed herself off, redid her updo, and walked back into the Palais Garnier.   _ Le Lac des cygnes _ was still going, reaching its peak as Amélie sat down. Prince Siegfried danced with Odile as Odette looked desperate and despaired, attempting to call out for her love. Amélie smiled.


End file.
